A Year In the Life – by Uppity & Kevin

A year has gone by and our letter is late –
But as we all know, for the good, one must wait.
All winter through summer we worked (some say slaved)
As trips and house projects need money be saved.

In June came a blog known as Uppity Rib;
No topic is safe from this young woman’s lib.
Like Gollum we sits and we types in the dark
We works on our precious, our internet mark.

A Breast Cancer 5K in summer we ran
For cures and awareness and mom in Spokane.
Our garden we planted and nurtured it well
Though how it would grow, time alone would soon tell.

At last came September: three weeks of vacation!
We packed up our bags and we left our great nation.
In Holland we landed, with windmills and dikes;
We walked Amsterdam all surrounded by bikes.
Anne Frank’s house, museums: Rembrandt & Van Gogh,
The Red Light streets tempted, but no time to go.

And then on to Deutschland – dark bier and rot wine!
We walked hand in hand on the banks of the Rhein.
Christmas stores, sausage and Night Watchmen, too,
And Neuschwanstein’s Castle, to us all brand new.

The Austrian hills were alive with the sound
Of luge rides and church bells and biergarten crowds.
Believe it or not, washing clothes feels like fun
When you hang them to dry in the Austrian sun.

So onward to Italy — pasta and cheese;
The wine poured all night and we always said “Please!”
First Venice: antiquities, glass blowing bright
A gondola ride in Italian moonlight.
In Florence we viewed Michaelangelo’s Dave,
The Duomo and bridge from the war that was saved.
Then Vatican City inside ancient Rome
The vast innerspace of St. Peter’s huge dome.
We toured the ruins and went back in time
Imagining how Rome had been in its prime.
Our last day of touring in old Italy
Was one restful day by the warm, deep blue sea.

Then Switzerland beckoned, it’s beauty perfection;
Our favoritest place, upon later reflection.
We walked its green valleys and scaled its white peaks
We could have remained there for many more weeks.

But further adventures awaited in France,
That beautiful country so full of romance.
In Beaune we learned much ‘bout the French and their wine
Then sampled a glass with cuisine that was fine.
And finally – Paris: the City of Light!
The Louvre, Notre Dame, and the Eiffel at night;
Rodin, the d’Orsay, and the grand old Versailles;
We packed it all in, then at last said good-bye.

The end of the trip found us weary but glad,
So grateful were we for the fun we had had.
The days filled with walking had made us quite slim,
But our hearts and our mem’ries were filled to the brim.

We flew to our home in Pacific Northwest
Where our own comfy bed we decided was best.
Our garden had made it, still full of big plants -
Tomatoes and carrots; no slugs, just some ants.

We resumed all the work we had planned for our house
To fix up the bathroom, evict the wee mouse.
Kevin is plugging the hole in the ground
That triggers the pump (how he curses the sound!).

And that’s all the news that is fit to be writ;
We blew our big wad on our long Europe trip.
So merry late Christmas and happy New Year -
Good luck in 07 – It’s already here!

If you see a photo you like, feel free to download it. Note that most of the photos were taken at somewhat low-res, because otherwise, the camera on the battery would crap out too soon (when you only have a day or two to see places like Paris, you can’t take time to go back to the hotel for a charge.)

If you like something so much you want to post it somewhere, please ask me first; just drop me a line at uppityrib@yahoo.com.

Now that I’m done reliving my amazing journey to far-off lands, where I had exciting adventures with interesting people, and am back to my “real life”… I spend a fair amount of effort keeping ahead of post-vacation ennui. What to do? Why, start planning another trip! Mai oui!

Euro-Blog 2007: England, Scotland & Ireland.

Who’s with me?

The editing of my photos of Versailles & Paris are ALMOST done…

Meanwhile, a fellow traveller sent me this gem. Think I’ll call it “Battle of the Photographers.” If that’s the case, it appears Kevin is rooting for the other team…

(Photo of Uppity & Kevin somewhere in Paris, courtesy of James.)

Last stop: legendary Versailles & incomparable Paris.

(Photo of the Cinque Terra courtesy of Kevin.)

This will have to suffice for today.

Thanks to Bayou for the fun blog doodad of the day. Get your word cloud here.

[tags]word cloud, photos of Europe, blog fun[/tags]

Remember, you can read all the details I’ve added to each individual photo by clicking directly on a photo, whether or not you use the “slideshow” option. I’ve had a lot of fun editing short sound-bytes of my memories of the trip (and a little historical data) into many of the pictures!

I might be done editing and uploading the rest of the photos (remainder of Italy, Switzerland, and France) by the end of the weekend… so check back!

I recommend viewing the photos by set in order to keep it all straight.  After clicking on the link provided here, you’ll see all the sets I’ve made so far.  Click on a set you want to see and only the photos in that set will come up.

At this point, there will be two ways to see the details I’ve added to each of the photos:

- You can simply click on each individual photo to see its title and description.

- You can also click on the “view as slideshow” feature, which will launch a show of each photo in that set; then to read the details of any given photo, you need to click directly on the photo before it goes by. Once you’re done reading, click on “Resume Show” to resume the slides.

The sets I’ve finished are (in order of the trip):

The Netherlands: Haarlem & Amsterdaam
Bacharach: Wine on the Rhine
Rothenburg: medieval German cuteness
Dachau: Never Again
Andechs: Ach, das is gut Bier
Austria & Neuschwanstein
Venice: the elegant puddle of decay

and COMING SOON:

Florence, Rome, Cinque Terra, Switzerland, Beaune, and the finale, Paris!

If the link above does NOT work for some reason, be sure to let me know ASAP – email me at uppityrib@yahoo.com. Thanks and enjoy!

Once we’d settled in, we still had an hour or so to get lunch. Most of us had no gumption to attempt speaking French at that point, so about half of us went directly to a nearby cafe we’d passed with a sign saying “Bar Lunch Dinner” with a sign like that, we figured they would probably speak English. We were right – the waitress had no trouble taking our orders. Our first day France and we ordered Cokes and club sandwiches. Nice!

After lunch, we met up with Ferdi for our first lesson on the Paris Metro system. (Too bad I was still pinging too much from the bus accident to really understand what he was talking about; luckily Kevin was a little more present and at least got the gist, important for our last day in Paris without the group). We all boarded a subway and headed for St. Chappelle.

St. Chappelle was built by Louis IX in the 1240′s to house relics from the Holy Land believed to be the Crown of Thorns and part of the True Cross. Louis was such an introvert that he had it built so that he had his own hidey-hole from which he could observe mass and the Crown while completely hidden from anyone’s view. (I asked to see the Crown too but – surprise! – no one could tell me where it was…) The chapel’s other claim to fame is its stained glass windows, which are floor-to-ceiling and cover three of the four walls. They were removed during WWII, thank goodness, as they are truly spectacular in the sun shine.

After St. Chappelle, we headed over a short way to the famed cathedral Notre Dame. Construction of this cathedral, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, began in 1163 and took the next 200 years to do… many of the workers spent their whole (albeit short) lives simply dragging big rocks from one place to the other! (At least they had job security, but I wonder about worker’s comp…)

Upon entering the darkened cathedral, I was astonished to find a full-blown mass in progress! Hundreds of tourists milled around, whispering and taking photos, while the congregation and officiants conducted their service, their space enclosed by railings in the middle. Individuals knelt and prayed in railed-off enclaves along the sides, trying to ignore the onlookers. Off to the side, near the front doors, was a sales counter and a church employee ringing up sales of souveniers. There were machines set up where you could buy offering candles – “For 3 euros more, you can take the candle home!” I was reminded of Jesus kicking the money changers out of the temple. It was all pretty surreal and a little creepy, but the cathedral was gorgeous nonetheless. It was my favorite of all we’d seen.

That evening, a bunch of us followed Mother Duck to one of his friends’ restaurant. It’s an elegant little place, completely staffed by the owers: the husband is the chef and the wife is the server. The communicated via the Bicker Window in the kitchen door, next to which we were sitting (sample translation courtesy of Ferdi):

“You forgot the escargot? How could you have forgotten that, it’s right on the ticket!” [mutter mutter]
“I didn’t forget – you didn’t have it done.” [whistles cheerily]
“Come pick it up! Can’t you see it?” [mutter mutter]
“I heard you – I’m not deaf!” [rolls eyes]

Etcetera. It was wonderful free entertainment with dinner. Oh, and I must not forget to mention that Kevin had escargot that night. As in, snails. Even though they do not have a face once they’re on the plate, I declined to try them. (Kevin liked them but smelled like garlic and gastropod the rest of the night.)

After dinner, Kevin and I went with a few other folks to check out the Eiffel Tower. It’s dazzling at night, all lit up. On the grounds around it is a large, rectangular green where hundreds of young people had set up little camps on on tarps, talking and drinking. As we stood there taking pictures and generally ooohing and ahhhing, kids hawking wine and champagne pestered us at least every 30 seconds. (We declined, having drunk our share at dinner.) Then after a few minutes, the Tower suddenly went all sparkly. The crowd on the green cheered. We learned the sparkle lights go off every 20 minutes or so, and it’s a popular weekend-night activity to hang out on the green and wait for it. Ah youth!

The next day was our last official day of the tour. We had saved what many thought was the best for last: the Louvre. As much as I hate to admit it, I couldn’t help thinking about the damn Da Vinci Code book while I was there, especially since the movie did a good job visually of playing up the pyramid and inverted pyramid as symbolic and artistic structures.

The Louvre itself, once palace residence to the kings of France, is huge – our tour guide had to show us the highlights only, as you could stay there for days and not see everything. We did get to see the remnants of the medieval palace foundations, discovered during the Louvre’s renovation some years ago; they are on view beneath the existing building.

As most people know, after once having been stolen by a man posing as a maintenance worker, the Mona Lisa is viewable now only from behind glass. But you also have to factor in the 10-foot space between her and the rope, plus the 20-foot-deep crowd of tourists behind that. So basically, the Mona Lisa looked to me almost the same as she does in a book: small, and even less distinct. It wasn’t like seeing the Botticellis or Van Goghs or Michaelangelos, where I could stare from 2 feet away to my heart’s content. Still, it was fun to be in the same room with the painting created with a technique so masterful, today’s analysts are still trying to figure it out.

We also saw the Winged Victory and my personal favorite, the Venus de Milo. I was surprised by how much I appreciated this sculpture; after all, it’s just a naked chick. But there is something special about it “in person,” just as there is about Michaelangelo’s David. Venus stands on a podium in her own room, perpetually looking down on the crowd of her adoring public, like the Goddess and Mary prototype she probably is.

After lunch in the Louvre cafe (where I spoke enough French to the counter person to make him think I knew the language – bad move!), we had the rest of the day free (no prearranged activity). Some of us decided to hit the streets of Paris for “shopping.” Right. It was Saturday, and the shopping district of downtown Paris was packed. I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even try to actually shop; we went in the department store (the French invented them, and you can tell they take it seriously – the one we were in has a stained glass ceiling) and back out again. Ultimately, we bought little things – scarves, etc. – from the independent vendors out on the street in front and called it good. Sure hope they are not made in Taiwan.

Kevin and I then went to the Rodin Museum, which both of us didn’t want to miss. I love all forms of art, but if I could wave a magic wand and be a genius, I’d be Uppity Claudel Michaelangelo Rodin Rib. Rodin’s is a lovely museum, with an outdoor part that features the bronzes done of many of his sculptures, such as the Gates of Hell and the Thinker. But I was disappointed that the Camille Claudel exhibit wasn’t there any longer. It was replaced by some of Rodin’s personal collection of art, including someone’s bronze of a naked woman’s torso with legs spread wiiiiide open. I got a picture, of course.

Our last supper with the group was a fun affair – excellent food, with much toasting and merriment and promises of emails. We walked home in a downpour, and were completely soaked by the time we got back to the hotel. I tried to remember the song from The Umbrellas Of Cherbourg but had to settle for Singing in the Rain (crazy Americans).

Sunday was Kevin’s and my extra day in Paris – our only day without Mother Duck (he jetted out of there at 9 am, god bless him) and the rest of the tour members. We were exhausted, but we’d come all that way and weren’t going to miss Versailles and the Museum d’Orday.

After a minor screw up at the train station, in which we got on the wrong platform and of course thought the world was going to end, we made it to the famous palace. Versailles is humongous but you can only see the main apartments – the royal bed chambers, receiving rooms, and Hall of Mirrors (which is half under construction right now – drat!). Most of the rooms are somewhat empty, since all the stuff got stolen or broken during the revolution. Still it was interesting to see, especially how the rooms were laid out for public use, even the bedrooms. We saw the little door through which Marie Antoinette escaped during the riot – mon Dieu! (In case you were wondering, the gardens of the Louvre and Tuilleries are quite lovely, though nothing spectacular this time of year.)

Finally, we made it to our last official stop: the Museum D’Orsay, which houses all the art of the 18th and 19th century. In addition to many famous works of impressionism and art nouveau, I at last got to see a sculpture by Camille Claudel and a bust of her head by her lover Rodin. The museum itself is an old train station that narrowly escaped the wrecking ball before being converted; it’s a gorgeous, spacious, domed building that is worth seeing in its own right.

To be honest, I was so tired at this point, I don’t think I gave the art works in the d’Orsay my best attention. “Priceless Degas, astonishing Cezannes, intriguing Van Goghs, infamous Reniors…yeah yeah yeah.” When I get back to Paris, it will be my first stop, when I haven’t already trotted around four other countries for 21 days.

But wait! There was one last activity for our exhausted heros: the Eiffel Tower again, this time to the top! Well, actually, second to the top. As you can’t make any of the Paris landmarks from such a height, the top floor isn’t very interesting unless you’re that wierd guy who parachutes off of it. So Kevin and I went up to nearly-the-top of the Eiffel Tower, took in the glittery beauty of Paris at night, and then made our way back to our hotel, happy that we had given Paris our best and feeling we’d gotten as much back.

The flights home were hellish, but only because they ere so long: Eight hours from Paris to Detroit, and four from Detroit to Seattle. Naturally there were about 1.25 million kids on the Detroit leg (ok, only 4, but one of them was right in front of us) and at least one of them seemed to be crying at all times. I basically didn’t sleep (again) for 26 hours, but when I did it was in my own bed and I was completely happy. Until you have slept in Germany, you do not know the bliss of your own soft mattress and perfect pillow.

My final, really and truly last Euroblog post will be some reflections on travelling that might be interesting to you if you like to travel, or just like to hear strange, funny, or humiliating stories about other travellers. Oh, and trip pictures will be available on my Flickr account SOON!

[tags]St. Chappelle, Notre Dame, Louvre, Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, Eiffel Tower, Rodin, Claudel, Versailles, Museum d’Orsay, impressionism, Van Gogh, Cezanne, Renior, Degas, Leonardo Da Vinci[/tags]

Now that I’m back in the good old US of A and semi-recovered from jet lag, I’ve settled into my easy desk chair to share with you my last tango in Paris. Because I have so much to write about, I’m splitting this post into two parts, lest I develop carpal tunnel from writing it all in one sitting.

Actually, this Euroblog post should start where I left off: our last hours in Switzerland. After I finished geeking out a blog post in the internet terminal at the Lauterbrunnen (next door to a youth hostel, incidentally), Kevin and I took the walking path through the valley, back to our hotel in Stechelberg. It was late afternoon and the sun shined down through a cloudless sky, illuminating the great mountains that towered over our heads. It was the most gorgeous five miles I’ve ever walked.

The next morning we left Switzerland behind for France. The French countryside is, as we expected by now, beautiful and picturesque, with green and brown fields of the farms and cute towns; I found myself pondering the difference between the picturesque towns in Europe versus the, uh, typically not so picturesque ones of rural America (at least in the west). Seriously, I didn’t see one trailer park, straggly lawn, or broken-down main street the whole drive through Europe.

We had reached our first stop in France, a little town called Beaune famous for its many generations of wine-making. [Quick aside: Beaune is pronounced "bone." So every time Ferdi, our tour director, would say "We're going to Beaune," there was a fair amount of snickering amongst us grown-ups. Snickers turned into guffaws when he told us about a guest speaker he had had on a previous tour, for whom English was not a first language, who had made a comment to the group about "an oral encounter with a Beauner." Some things never change.]

Anyway. As you might know, France in general is very serious about its role as wine-makers to the stars of history, so to be in a well-regarded winery town was pretty special. Our hotel, Hotel le Close, is a renovated farm on the outskirts of Beaune. It was by far the nicest hotel we stayed at during the tour; Kevin’s and my room had an upstairs loft bedroom! Our hotel’s host was very gracious in greeting us, and didn’t flinch once at our pitiful pronunciations of “Bonjour, Monsieur” in his beloved language. Movin’ on up en France.

After settling into our rooms, we went to Beaune (snicker) for a visit to the town’s “hotel-Dieu” – hospital of God, a common name for any hospital for the poor in France. It was founded in 1443 by a rich lord who in his dying days freaked out at the surety of going to hell for his evil political doings unless he redeemed himself. Amazingly, this hospital was in service for 500 years (!) until it was finally closed in the 1970′s and turned into a museum. Though the technology changed with the times, the everything about the architecture and decor is still pretty much the same as it was when it was first built, including the altar and stained glass in the convelescence room with its beds lined end-to-end against the walls.

That evening, we were treated to a wine-tasting and short class on wine-drinking and -making in France. The wine was, of course, wonderful, and the class was very interesting, though brief — which was probably a good idea, given that it had been several hours since any of us had eaten anything. By the time it was over, we were all in, shall we say, pretty good spirits (“He said ‘bone!’ Ha ha ha!”).

Luckily we’d all sobered up enough to be presentable for dinner at the restaurant next door, during which the proprietors proceded to help us get snockered again. But none of us were too far gone to appreciate the exquisite French cuisine (including super-stinky cheese — the stinkier the tastier, you know) to which we were treated. Fine french food and wine at an outdoor table on a lovely summer evening… it was to die for and we all went to bed feeling quite spoiled.

The next morning we left for Paris – the City of Light. For me, this was the piece de resistance of the tour, as I’ve always wanted to visit this famously influential and beautiful city filled with art, culture and romance. My excitement wasn’t marred by the gentle rain that started to fall as we drove into the city.

We had been in Paris about 15 minutes and had just glimpsed the famed Arc de Triomphe as we drove down the Champs-Elysees, when a truck ahead of us slammed on its breaks. Juan hit the breaks of the bus, but the pavement was slippery… As luck would have it, Kevin and I happened to be sitting in the front seat directly behind Juan, and I had just enough time to see it coming and cover my eyes with my hands. I heared Juan and Ferdi exclaim in their native Flemish, followed by a gigantic crash.

When I opened my eyes, it appeared the windshield had been pushed in about a foot (thank god for safety glass). Our two huge front mirrors were cracked almost completely off. Juan and Ferdi brushed tiny glass fragments out of their hair, and there were a few on the book rest in front of my seat as well. A quick check confirmed that the only damage done was to the bus – no one on board was hurt (no one in the truck or on the street was injured, either).

Before exiting the bus to go talk to the truck driver, Ferdi said to us, “I wanted to end the tour with a bang, but not like this!” We weren’t too shook up to laugh.

We piled out of the bus and removed our luggage from the hold. Ferdi tried to get us taxis, but that time of day in Paris wasn’t very good for that, and for 26 people, especially. Eventually we all decided we’d just walk the rest of the way to our hotel; after all, we’d been walking our way through European cities for the past 19 days – what’s another 45 minutes? Even the rain had more or less stopped (to us Pacific Northwesterners, of which there were several on the tour, a light drizzle does not count as rain). Besides, at that point we all had a lot of adrenaline that it would be nice to walk off.

So a few of us with a lot of luggage got in the one taxi that had shown up, and the rest of us set off on foot for Hotel Jardins d’Eiffel, on the Rue de Amelie. I’m sure we made quite the scene for amused Parisians – a tall mother duck in a leather jacket with a trail of somewhat shell-shocked, bedraggled, baggage-laden chicks following him through the streets of Paris.

Coming Soon – Last Tango in Paris, Part 2!

[tags]France, Beaune, French food, wine tasting, winery, Paris, bus accident[/tags]